


The Summoner and the Hellspawn

by elwon



Series: Volcano & Hurricane [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Demon Summoning, Demon!Dick Grayson, Exorcists, Father Todd, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 18:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13486926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: “You had a visitor at dawn.” Alfred says hesitantly, which sets alarm bells ringing in Jason’s head. “He left a message for you. Usually I wouldn’t even countenance considering passing it on, but well, needs must."“If you want to find the tiny little chip, meet him at midnight by the lychgate. He has a lead.”Jason tracks down the Summoner with a little help from Dick.





	The Summoner and the Hellspawn

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to my JayDick Week 2017 Day Seven: Father Todd fic.

Jason finally arrives at the parking lot outside St. Sebastian’s. The pale asphalt is cracked and the paint designating the parking spaces has worn away after years of use. Jason sighs, pulling a notebook out of his pocket and makes himself a note to get the lot repainted. It takes him longer than usual to write the note, his eyes crossing with exhaustion. It’s only as he’s tucking the notebook away that he notices the car parked close to the Rectory door. A familiar figure is sitting on the battered hood of the old green Ford Mondeo, leaning over a textbook while her hair does its best to escape the braid it’s tucked into in a mostly successful attempt to appear professional.

Jason trudges over, bracing himself for Stephanie’s energetic enthusiasm. He likes the girl, he honestly does, but after the very long and fruitless night of searching for the Summoner he’s had, and the fact that he forgot to pick up his wallet last night, meaning no greasy diner breakfast as compensation for not finding anything, he’s not got the energy to deal with Sister Stephanie Brown at her most chipper. Steph isn’t alone though, and Jason relaxes when he sees Cass with her. Steph tends to be calmer when Sister Cass is with her. (Jason knows only half the story when it comes to those two. Given how closely he guards his own secrets, he’s not going to ask for the other half.)

“Father Todd! I was hoping to catch you!” Steph says, smiling widely as she looks up. Steph’s a pretty girl, full of life, hopeful and determined, and at least whenever Jason’s seen her, always cheerful. She wants to be an Exorcist like him, for reasons that are tied up in how she met Cass. Jason doesn’t really want her to be an Exorcist, it’s a terrible job, demanding and exacting, for people who are prepared to throw everything away, including their lives, for the cause. Privately, Jason thinks Steph could bring a lot of hope and light to people, and be happier in life if she chose to take another path. 

“Sisters...” Jason says with a nod. “I’m sure you have better things to do that hang around parking lots waiting for me. So, how am I in trouble this time?” he finishes with a grin, making Steph snort loudly and even causing Cass to give a half smile. At least Jason _thinks_ it was a smile. He finds Cass really hard to read.

“Actually, Sister Barbara’s in a meeting with Father Pennyworth, so we’re waiting for her... But I was hoping you’d look over my application for me?” Steph says, biting her lower lip gently in nervousness, holding out a multipage document to Jason. “I’m about to mail it off to the Diocese.” Jason takes the application, and skims over the cover page of basic information about Steph.

“You’ve shown it to Sister Barbara, right?” Jason asks absentmindedly and gets a nod in return as he keeps reading. Steph’s given good answers to all the questions on the form, and he pays more attention to the short essay section than the Q and A’s that he’s sure Barbara’s already looked over. “OK, well, the questions are all right, the essay’s good. You should do fine. If they don’t offer you a place then they’re crazier than I already know they are.” Jason hands the form back to Steph.

“Really? Thank you, Father.” Steph says, beaming and pulling an already stamped and addressed envelope out of her purse, folding the form up and sliding it inside the envelope before sealing it. “OK, I’m gonna run this to the mailbox now. Be right back, Cass.” Steph runs off, rounding the corner of the building, her braid bouncing around behind her.

“Thank you.” Cass says unexpectedly, startling Jason as he fumbles his packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“For what? Her application’s really good.” Jason finally gets a cigarette out of the pocket and brings it to his lips.

“For encouraging her. Steph thought you didn’t think she was good enough. You never look happy when talking about it to her.” Cass tilts her head as she speaks slowly and carefully.

“She’s more than good enough. And I was hoping she hadn’t caught that I wasn’t happy.” Jason sighs, flicking his lighter on and bringing it to his cigarette. “I don’t want her to be an Exorcist. It’s a crap job with seriously short life expectancy, and she’s could do a lot more good for everyone in a less dangerous job. But it’s _her_ life and if she wants to be an Exorcist, I’m sure as hell not going to stand in her way, like it’s any of business.” Cass blinks at him, and then slowly smiles, her shoulders relaxing. It feels like the atmosphere around them both has suddenly lightened.

“Steph is the best.” Cass says, taking Jason’s cigarette out of his hand and then taking a drag herself. “People see the smile and don’t respect her. I don’t like that. But you do respect her. I’m glad. She looks up to you.” Cass hands him his cigarette back with a smile that can’t be mistaken for another else.

“Yeah? She’d be better off if she didn’t look up to me.” Jason shakes his head, smiling wryly. “But I wish her all the good luck I can. And I should get inside before Alfred gets disappointed in me. Again.” 

“Father Pennyworth is never disappointed in you, Father Todd.” Cass says, grinning as the smile reaches her eyes. “Goodbye, I will tell Steph you said ‘Good Luck’.”  
Jason starts walking into the Rectory and gives Cass a wave over his shoulder. It feels like he’s managed to get into Sister Cass’s good books by being honest. He lets the grin spread over his face. It’s a strange idea to realise that he’s just made another friend for life. Well, he _could_ use more of those. 

He opens the door to the Rectory kitchen and walks in to Alfred sitting at the large wooden table with a pot of tea, in the slightly fancier teapot he uses for visitors, three cups, one clearly waiting for him, a plate of cookies, and a serene Sister Barbara. Jason has the split second sensation that he used to get when he and Dick got called into the Principal’s office in high school, which happened far too often because of Dick’s crazy ideas that Jason could never say no to. He shrugs that feeling off with his leather jacket, and by the time he’s hung it over the back of his usual kitchen chair and slumped down into it, Alfred’s poured him a cup of tea and they’re both looking at Jason waiting for good news he doesn’t have. 

“I guess you had no more luck than I did.” Jason says, and then, yes, there are the twin sighs he was waiting for. “I struck out so bad, I couldn’t even get a trace on our Summoner. You?”

“I was also unable to find the merest hint of our newest problem. Either he’s incredibly capable or lucky. I dread to think which.” Alfred says, taking a sip of his own tea, and eyeing Jason’s cigarette. Alfred sets his cup down and pointedly moves Jason’s ash tray from the middle of the table to set it down right by Jason’s hand, under his dangling cigarette. Jason takes the cue and lightly taps it out, he can smoke the rest later when Sister Barbara has left. Alfred gets a little huffy when he smokes in front of guests, and the tobacco rush Jason gets is nothing compared to the guilt Alfred can solicit with a single raised eyebrow. Jason can wait.

“Damn it. You were my last hope we’d found anything.” Sister Barbara pushes her glasses higher up her nose in obvious frustration. 

“I just want you to know that I’m resisting the urge to make either a Star Wars or a Carrie Fisher reference here.” Jason tries and fails to keep the smile off his face.  
“Help me Obi Won whatever the hell your name is, you’re my only ho? Yes, you certainly are.” Barbara smirks while Jason narrowly manages to avoid choking on his tea.

“Serves you right for bringing that up, young man” Alfred says, face and voice stern but his eyes are twinkling with mirth.

“But in all seriousness, it seems like _no one’s_ found anything. All the reports I’ve had come in so far are the same as yours.” Sister Barbara sighs. She keeps her hands on her teacup, slowly rotating it on the saucer as she looks down at it. “It’s frustrating, but it looks like the only thing we can do is wait and hope we can catch whoever it is doing this next time. Which I’m sure Mother Superior and the Bishop will be absolutely _thrilled_ to hear.”

“I’ll make sure to emphasise the very small likelihood that anything’s actually been successfully summoned when I report in.” Alfred says, pushing back from the table to stand up.

“Rather you than me, Father Alfred. I’ll let you know if anything changes, but well...” Barbara flicks off the brakes on her wheelchair, expertly reversing enough to turn her chair on the spot, and with a gentle push rolls over to the door. “Hopefully the next time I see you two we’ll have caught this Summoner.” After they say their goodbyes, Alfred comes back to the kitchen table and sits next to Jason.

“You had a visitor at dawn.” Alfred says hesitantly, which sets alarm bells ringing in Jason’s head. “He left a message for you. Usually I wouldn’t even countenance considering passing it on, but well, needs must. Merciful God forgive us.” Jason downs the last of his tea, buying himself a few seconds to process that Dick has shown himself to _Alfred_ and that Alfred didn’t exorcise him on the spot. Jason takes a breath and then nods to Alfred to give him the message.

“If you want to find the tiny little chip, meet him at midnight by the lychgate. He has a lead.”

***

Jason spends the day napping, eating a whole extra large meat feast pizza by himself (and yes, the slight glare he got from Alfred when he paid the delivery boy for ordering in was worth it), and then cleaning his weapons in readiness for meeting Dick. He tries to squash down the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of spending time with him alone without the safety of the barrier wards of the church. It’s not a date, he tells himself over and over again. That he wishes that it is a date is neither here nor there.

It’s only as he’s standing over the bathroom sink, halfway through shaving his stubble off that he realises that he has no clue how he’s going to handle being alone with Dick for any length of time. Jason pauses; razor lifted half way up to his face and stares at his reflection. The white stripe in his hair catches his gaze, calling attention to how his hair’s hanging over his eyes, hiding how hurt and tired they are. Even the lines of his face seem deeper than they should be. Being an Exorcist is a draining calling, and for the first time Jason really sees the toll it’s taken on him so far. He sighs, there’s nothing he can do about how he looks except finish shaving. He reminds himself that he took vows of chastity among others. It doesn’t matter if he’s aging faster; he’s not trying to catch anyone’s attention. As long as he’s clean and for the most presentable, then he’s fine.

Jason gets dressed, shirt and priest’s collar done up, thick but loose black jeans, suitable for fighting in and leather jacket over the top to keep him warm, he straps his guns on, slipping spare ammo into the internal pockets and picking up the little charm to tuck into his pocket that causes most people except those with their own magic to ignore that he’s wearing large guns, and he’s ready to face Dick.

Well, as ready as he ever could be.

***

When Jason gets to the lychgate, a whole ten minutes early, Dick’s already waiting for him. Dick beams widely as he approaches, giving Jason an appreciative once over before licking his lips. Jason rolls his eyes, fondly remembering all the times Dick did that same exact thing back in high school. Although perhaps he was more subtle about it back then. In his own words, the ‘new, improved’ Dick has no time for subtlety or even shame. 

“Looking good, Da--, Father.” Dick leers, looking altogether too pleased with himself. The cat that got the cream, Jason thinks.

“OK, if we’re going to be spending any time together you need to get all the Daddy jokes out of your system now, because I will be shooting you in delicate places if you say them where _anyone_ else can hear them.” Jason frowns at him. “But I promise you, I’ve heard them all before.” He made at least eighty per cent of them during Seminary.

“And here was I hoping I could get some _in_ to my system!” Dick purrs, trailing his fingers along the top bar of the gate suggestively. Jason sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He has the feeling it’s going to be a long night. “Alright, alright, just for you, Daddy, I promise that I won’t make any more of them.” Dick puts on his best innocent and sincere face, eyes wide and glowing faintly. The night breeze lifts his hair from his face gently and Jason’s struck with the urge to tuck it behind Dick’s ear. He doesn’t.

“I’d keep you to that, but demons lie.” Jason snorts, opening the gate and stepping out into the street.

“Rude, but accurate.” Dick admits breezily, stepping into Jason’s personal space.

“So, you’ve got a lead?” Jason steps forward and away from Dick, needing a little more space. Without the barrier ward between them, Dick’s body heat radiates out and Jason wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around him.

“Aww, down to business already? I was hoping for more foreplay, but fine...” Dick pouts, but the smile in his eyes tells Jason he doesn’t really mind. Dick’s taking this more seriously than he’s pretending he is. Jason wonders why. “Follow me, and feel free to take in the view.”

“Said the spider to the fly.” Jason scoffs, eyes automatically dropping down to Dick’s ass as he walks away. And damn if the view isn’t even better than he remembered. He forcefully drags his eyes back up to Dick’s shoulders. Vows of chastity, Jason thinks, as Dick turns to look over his shoulder and smirks knowingly while his eyes flash a brighter blue for a brief moment.

***

An hour later and Jason’s overheating in the crowded bar. It’s surprising full for a weekday, but there’s some big sports game playing on the huge screens by the bar, which probably explains it. Dick and Jason found a small out of the way corner table to sit at, and for the last hour Jason’s been growing increasingly uncomfortable in the noisy, hot, bar. He won’t take his jacket off, so he ends up loosening his collar and slipping the stiff white band into his jeans pocket. Dick had insisted that his lead hung out here, and Jason gave him the benefit of the doubt when they arrived, but the amount of drinks Dick’s trying to ply him with have removed that benefit. Despite himself, Jason’s been enjoying spending time hanging out with Dick like old times, but now that Dick’s been gone to the bar for a few minutes; Jason’s sense of duty has kicked in. They’re supposed to be on a mission right now, not socialising.

In hindsight, Jason probably shouldn’t have accepted that third whiskey, but Dick had been giving him a strangely gentle smile and Jason had been lulled into a relaxed state and taken the glass without thinking. Dick winds his way through the packed bar, back to their table with two large fruity cocktails with umbrellas, and some sort of long stick with tinsel attached to the top. Even if Jason were very drunk he wouldn’t drink that, and Jason is not even remotely drunk, thanks to years of drinking at least a fifth of a bottle of whiskey a night. Dick sits down and passes one of the glasses over to Jason who just looks at him blandly. Dick grins and sips at his neon pink monstrosity and Jason watches in horrified fascination as he sucks long and hard on both straws until the drink is nearly gone and then ice cubes clink down to the bottom of the glass.

“You’re not drinking that?” Dick pouts, pushing those plump lips together. He shrugs and picks up Jason’s glass and captures the two straws in his mouth, and downs the drink in less time than the first one. It puts thoughts about how that mouth feels wrapped around his cock and Jason revels in those pleasant memories, until a drunk man bumps into their table and Jason’s jolted back to the present.

“OK, we’re getting out of here. Your lead is not panning out.” Jason says, standing up. If he stays here any longer he’ll do something he regrets like dragging Dick into a back alley and reminding him just how good Jason was at blowing Dick’s mind. 

“But... OK, wait. My lead wasn’t actually for here.” Dick blurts out. “I just needed to delay you for a while. Well, that and I wanted to spend some time with you. I miss you, I miss talking to you. Can you blame me for taking advantage of a perfect set up? I thought some conversation and a few drinks might help for later on.” Dick bites his lip and stares up at Jason, and Jason’s reminded of all the times that exact move made Jason give in and let Dick off the hook for whatever dumbass move he’d pulled that time. It shouldn’t _still_ work on Jason. But it does, better than it should.

“For fuck’s sake, Richard.” Jason sighs, the noise and heat in the bar is making his head pound even more.

“I do have a real lead, trust me. I promise. I guess we can head over there now. Please?” Dick pleads, hands reaching out to Jason.

“One chance, Dickie. One chance, and if you mess with me again, I’m going home.” Jason says, pushing through the crowd to get outside. The cool night air ruffles his hair and Jason sighs in relief. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes and knocks one out, bringing it to his lips and slipping the pack back into his pocket with smooth practiced motions. Dick walks up to him, flicking out a lighter and holding the flame to the end of Jason’s cigarette. Jason inhales and his shoulders relax. Dick pockets the lighter, and gestures to the left. Jason exhales and nods and they start walking away from the crowded bar.

***

Dick leads Jason to the outer suburbs, to a nice house with a well taken care of lawn, a double garage and an air of emptiness that suggests that the owners aren’t around much, despite the fact that the lights are on and the faintest sounds of a television can be heard playing somewhere towards the back of the house even though it’s seriously early in the morning and the streetlights are still on to combat the darkness of the night. Dick strides right up to the front door, knocking on it with a grin before Jason can tell him to stop.

“Dick, what the hell are you doing?” Jason hisses as he catches up to him, grabbing Dick’s shoulder and turning him to look at him. “We don’t know what we’re walking into here!”

“Relax, Father. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Dick grins back, utterly unrepentant and Jason wants to walk away, smack him, something to impress on Dick that this isn’t a joke. He does nothing though, as there is the sound of two young voices, one that sounds a little familiar, and another, younger one that doesn’t, arguing about who should open the door. The door is yanked open forcefully and one of the kids barrels through it, wrapping his arms around Dick’s hips violently, forcing Dick to stagger back a step.

“Grayson! You’re late. I have been trapped here with _him_ for hours. I was seconds from brutally and gloriously decapitating him. The arterial spray will be magnificent. May I?” The kid says into Dick’s hip, voice clear through volume only. The boy’s short, dark haired and morbid. Jason would guess he’s around ten maybe. He probably shouldn’t find him hilarious, but he does. How does this kid know Dick well enough to throw himself at him bodily with no fear? Although on second glance, the devil tail untucking itself from around the kid’s waist means that he’s probably not joking about the vicious murder, and goes some way to explaining how he knows Dick. But, fuck, a full demon here means that the Summoner was successful. This case just got so much more complicated than Jason’s prepared for. The sound of someone running towards the door catches Jason’s attention.

“Damn it, Damian! I told you to keep away from the door. Do as you’re told!” The second kid comes into view and stops short as he sees Dick and Jason standing there. Jason stands there, swearing long and hard internally, because fuck his life. No, seriously, _fuck his life_. Who the hell did he piss off that means that Jason has to deal with absolute _batshit fuckery_ like this? If Jason thought things were complicated before they’ve now hit the level of shit that Jason calls back up for. Because it would have to be Tim fucking Drake, attempted thief of restricted books too many damn times over, standing there looking guilty as sin and about to bolt.

“Jesusfuck, what the genuine shitting hell have you _done_ , Drake?” Jason grinds out between clenched teeth, almost blind with rage. His hands clamp down on his guns, gripping them so tightly it actually begins to hurt. Drake goes white, mouth hanging open with no sound coming out. Jason’s tipped over from scary librarian to full out about to destroy all evil Exorcist. Only this time there’ll be no glee at thwarting Drake, only failure and bone deep regret at not stopping the boy before disaster could occur. 

“Jason! Jason, it’s OK. It’s OK, I promise. Listen to me, please?” Dick’s saying from right beside Jason, but he sounds distant and distorted, and Jason has to concentrate on him for the words to make sense. “I understand you’re angry, but I need you to listen to me, please. Just hear us out, things will make sense then. Please?” The fact that Dick seems to be sincerely begging finally allows Jason’s vision to clear, and Jason turns to look at him.

The pleading look on Dick’s face and the small glare on the kid’s face half buried in Dick’s hip make the gears turn over in Jason’s brain and he glances out onto the street. It’s dark and empty, cars parked in driveways all along the street, pools of light from the streetlights interspersing with the green manicured lawns with toys abandoned there; and in one garden, the obligatory pink plastic flamingo. There’s no one looking through any windows, but Jason knows better than to risk it. He grabs Dick’s shoulder and pushes him and the kid in through the door, following them in and shutting the door behind him with a heavy finality that on any other mission would spell doom for any demons in the house. 

***

“Explain. Now.” Jason grinds out, both hands tight on the grips of his guns. They’ve drifted into the living room and the demon kid, Damian, has dragged Dick over to one of the two sleek white and uncomfortable looking couches that Jason has a hard time believing that anyone ever sits on. The huge black marble fireplace has attractive logs laid out in the grate, but it’s obvious they’ve never so much as seen a match. The while house looks like something out of a glossy high end fashion magazine or some fancy overpriced boutique hotel, and not somewhere that anyone actually lives.

“Who is this human that thinks he can demand things of us? Grayson, dispose of him. He irritates me.” Damian says, waving his hand at Jason, clearly expecting to be obeyed. Dick shifts in his seat, and something about the discomfort on his face makes Jason think that maybe the kid’s expectations are usually met. 

“Damian, this is Father Todd. He’s an Exorcist, so you need to... It would be wise if you could see fit to be civil.” Dick looks down at Damian, who scrunches his face up in disgust.

“I don’t see why. You can dispose of him, can’t you?” Damian looks up at Dick, tilting his head in curiosity.

“I... actually I can’t. And Father Todd can easily dispose of both of us, so be polite.” Dick says firmly, and that little titbit makes Jason raise an eyebrow but he otherwise manages to not look surprised at that.

“Really? But he looks so... feeble.” Damian blinks up at Dick and Jason tries not to bristle at the description. Who the hell does this kid think he is?

“Well, this is all very boring, but it’s not an explanation.” Jason interrupts before the conversation can get anymore sidetracked. He spots Drake out of the corner of his eye, trying to sneak off. “You, Drake. Park that ass down on a couch, boy. You have a lot of explaining to do too.” Drake perches down on the end of the couch furthest away from where Jason’s standing by the fireplace.

“Father Todd, this is Damian. He’s the son of the demons who... uh, how to put this? Took me under their wings in hell. After I got changed, that is. He’s... kind of my little brother I guess?” Dick rubs at the back of his neck, while his other arm wraps protectively around his younger brother. Jason guesses there’s got to be a hell of a lot more to the story than that, but it’s all he really needs to know right now, at least.

“OK. That explains how you know him. Doesn’t tell me how he got _here_ , though.” And now he thinks about it, Jason wants to know how Dick got topside too. In all their talks since he came back, he’s never actually told Jason that.

“Um.” Drake interjects, looking guilty. “I uh, sort of accidentally summoned him? I didn’t mean to! I was just practicing in the basement and um, there he was?” Drake cringes, and Jason would feel sorry for him if he hadn’t summoned a demon.

“You accidentally summoned a demon while you were practicing to summon a demon.” Jason says sceptically. Drake winces. “Why were you trying to summon a demon? Where did you even get the information to try?”

“Um, the internet? It has everything. And I was just trying to help!” Drake blurts out, his face turning red and tears welling up in his eyes. Jason would feel a bit guilty for upsetting the boy, except well. Demon summoning.

“The internet. Of course it was the fucking internet.” Jason groans. Fucking hell, he wants another drink. He should’ve accepted that pink monstrosity of a drink that Dick bought him earlier, and ignored what it looked like. “Fine, why the hell would you think _summoning a demon_ would help anyone? Seriously?” Both Dick and Damian turn to look at Drake, twin looks of curiosity on their faces. It’d be funny in any other situation.

“I. I heard.” Drake clears his throat, rubbing roughly at his eyes to wipe away tears. “I heard that one of the bishops has a pet demon that he uses to help clear out demon nests. I thought if I had one then I’d be able to get into one of the Exorcist programmes without a recommendation from the local clergy. I know you and Father Pennyworth won’t give me a recommendation. I thought this was my only chance!”

“For fuck’s sake, kid. We won’t recommend you because you don’t listen. You’re fifteen. Come back and ask when you’re eighteen, and we’ll give you all the help you need. Well, Father Pennyworth will. I won’t.” Jason sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, before resting it lightly on the grip on his gun. “In the meantime we gotta sort out this literally unholy mess. Someone give me one good reason why I don’t just send this kid back to hell and drag Drake before the Diocese Tribunal? Because I don’t see another way out of this.” Jason doesn’t actually want to shoot a kid, even if he’s a demon and belongs back in hell.

“Well, I can tell you that I’d be very upset if you did. Damian’s parents would be very upset if you did. And you don’t want all _three of us_ after you.” Dick gives him a stern look that promises hell if he tries it. Jason returns that look with a pointedly bland one of his own. “And oh! I have a suggestion for that.” Dick says, smile gleaming wetly. Jason has a feeling that he’s not going to like this idea at all.

“Is it worth the effort to say no now, or are you going to make me listen to your full plan anyway?” Jason stares at him. Dick, if possible, smiles wider and his eyes glow brighter for several moments.

“You know me so well, Father. So, here’s the plan.” Dick leans forward and preens under everyone’s attention.

***

“No, Dick, that is a truly terrible plan.” Jason slumps down into a white leather armchair that is far more comfortable than it looks and stares at Dick in disbelief when he finishes outlining his idea. “We are not doing it. No.”

“It’s not that bad!” Dick pouts, the glow of his eyes dimming as he lowers his eyes downwards, peeking up at Jason through his eyelashes. Damn it, that used to be one of his favourite looks on Dick, and it both hurts to see it, and yet still makes Jason’s heart race a little.

“As much as I want to disagree with the Exorcist, Grayson, on this, he is correct.” Damian says, scowling across at Jason as if he can tell what effect Dick’s having on him. “It requires far too much trust in that human to keep us safe.”

“I’m in no way inclined to keep either of you safe.” Jason scowls back at the young demon, and a small, petty part of his mind wants to snarl at him that ‘Dick was _his_ first, you little shit’. “And more importantly, it does nothing for the chip torn in to the seal. Shut up Dick, yes, that is a huge problem. There’s no way I can repair it on my own. Which means bringing others here to deal with it. So all your plans for secrecy are blown.” At the very least he’s going to need Alfred and maybe even Sister Barbara to help him repair the chip in the seal. The only plus they have going for them at the moment is that they know that the summoning circle is in the Drakes’ basement. They’ll be able to patch it pretty quickly, but the real worry is that something else might force its way through the gap in the seal while they’re preparing to fix it.

“I really don’t see how that’s our problem.” Dick shrugs, as if the entire plan he just outlined wasn’t basically ‘pretend that Damian isn’t here, and hide him away until the Exorcists looking for him go away’. It was the most non-plan plan that Jason’s heard in a while. Which probably serves him right for listening to a demon in the first place.

“Yeah, well, that’s why you’re the bad guys here.” Jason mutters in exasperation and tries to resist the urge to rub his face in his hands. All he’d wanted was a nice simple ass-kicking, and spending an hour or two with Dick alone. How had his night ended up like this? Oh right, the stupidity of too smart for their own good teenage boys.

“But what do you think Tim? Is our vote split fifty/fifty?” Dick turns a persuasive smile on Tim and the boy blinks and flushes slightly more over his already red face. Jason rolls his eyes, Dick turning the charm on Drake should have been something he expected, but strangely he’d thought that maybe Dick would, what? Respect him enough not to do it in front of him? Well, that was foolish.

“This is not a democracy, Dick. We aren’t doing it, so stop trying to make it happen.” Jason interrupts Tim before the boy can do more than open his mouth. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Hey, Tim managed to summon a _Prince of Hell_ , so clearly he’s far smarter than you give him credit for!” Dick points out, gesturing over to the boy like some sort of quiz show hostess. The blue stripe on his fingers draws Jason’s attention and despite himself he ends up watching them wave up and down. Jason wants to bite down on them, just to hear Dick whine prettily. He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind of thoughts like that. Vows of chastity, he reminds himself. Vows of chastity.

“Wait, I did what now?” Tim looks horrified, and Jason thinks that maybe for the first time the kid is realising _just_ how much he’s fucked up.

“To be honest, Drake, it’s a miracle you’re alive. I’m not even sure _how_ you’re still alive. Damian doesn’t seem the... friendly type.” Jason says, hoping that brutal honesty might make the lesson finally fully hit home. Better late than never, he supposes.

“He managed to add a hidden secondary binding to the summoning circle. He’s bound his life to mine.” Damian grumbles from his place under Dick’s arm. “If I’d realised that was there I would never have answered his weak pathetic summons.”

“Why did you?” Dick looks down at Damian, head tilted in curiosity. Jason has the fleeting thought that Dick looks adorable before he ruthlessly shoves that thought down where it belongs in the murky mire of his subconscious.

“I was bored. Father’s been in a foul mood since you relocated topside. I thought I would arrive here, kill my Summoner, and then seek you out. I am most annoyed things have turned out like this.” Damian shrugs, and then continues when he sees Dick quirk an eyebrow. “You seem to be having a lot of fun up here, so I thought why not try it myself.”

“Wait, wait... go back to the part where our lives are bound to each other?” Tim says, voice wavering in shock, face now pale instead of flushed. It’s a good job he’s already sitting down, because Jason thinks the kid might pass out or vomit, he looks so thrown.

“As I’ve said. Either of us die, the other will die too. It’s not complicated, Drake.” Damian drawls, rolling his eyes, clearly not even remotely impressed with his Summoner.

“I didn’t do that! I wouldn’t do that. _Oh god_ , Father, how do we fix this? Please, you’ve got to help us!” Tim turns to Jason, eyes wide and pleading. His hands are shaking and it’s that little detail that makes Jason take pity on the boy. 

“I’m going to. But you’re all going to have to do exactly what I say.” Jason says, sitting forward in his chair. “Do you all agree?” Dick looks at both of the boys, and Damian begrudgingly leans forward to look at his Summoner. Tim nods almost frantically and then Damian gives a stiff little nod, clearly under Tim’s influence, as much as he doesn’t want to be.

“We’ll do _whatever you say, Father_...” Dick leers and Jason was expecting at least that level of innuendo so he ignores it. “So, what do we do?”

Jason looks at the three expectant faces waiting in front of him and wishes he had even a vague idea of what to do next that isn’t call Alfred and beg for his help. He sighs and pulls his cellphone out of his pocket, pulling up his contacts and thumbing back up to the top to Alfred’s name. Jason hesitates before his thumb comes down on the call icon. He closes his eyes for a second, desperately failing to think of anything else they could do. There’s nothing else for it, he’s going to have to call and hope that Alfred agrees to hide Dick and Damian from the Diocese, for Jason and Tim’s sakes. It’s too much to ask, he knows, but what the hell else can he do?

***

There’s a tense silence stifling all conversation in the living room when a polite, calm knocking comes at the Drakes’ front door. Jason takes a deep breath and walks the few steps to the door from where he’s been leaning against the railing on the staircase. He pulls the door open to the frame of Father Pennyworth shadowed by the distant streetlights. Alfred steps inside and Jason closes the door, and the faint feeling of dread that started in his gut from the moment Jason first called Alfred increases the longer Alfred is silent.

There’s a vague look of disappointment on Alfred’s face when he turns around after he shucks his coat and hat and Jason hangs them up for him on one of the hooks by the door. Jason bites back his sigh and rolls his shoulders to resist the urge to let them slump. When they walk into the living room, Tim rockets to his feet, nearly stumbling in his eagerness to thank Father Pennyworth. Alfred catches Tim’s elbow with ease despite his age and the time of the morning. 

“Father Pennyworth! Thank you so much from coming.” Tim says, hand automatically coming up to grip at Alfred’s jacket. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this, you have to believe me.”

“You _have_ given us quite a bit of trouble, young man.” Alfred says, frowning faintly. “Thankfully, this is a mess we can fix quite easily if we all muck in together. However, I will have to strongly suggest you never do anything of the sort again.” Tim nods fervently, letting go of Alfred’s jacket and turning to look at Dick and Damian.

Dick looks relaxed and blithely unconcerned, arm resting loosely on Damian’s shoulders. Damian just looks bored. Jason’s torn between yelling at Dick for not taking this seriously and standing in between he and Alfred in an attempt to protect Dick from the older priest’s inclination to send them both back to hell. Both actions would be completely pointless, so he does neither. Alfred stares at them, narrowing his eyes at them both, but to Jason’s relief, says nothing to either of them.

“So, the summoning circle’s in the basement. We should be able to do repair the seal between the two of us, right?” Jason says, wanting to get it over with.

“We’ll have to actually check the circle before I’ll be sure the two of us are enough.” Alfred says, flicking his gaze to Jason. “Perhaps you can show us to it, my child.” Alfred gestures to Tim to lead on with a wide wave of his arm. Tim nearly trips over his own feet again in his hurry to show them the way to the basement. Father Pennyworth follows at a more sedate pace. Jason waits until he catches Dick’s eye, and tries to convey ‘stay here and don’t go anywhere’ with just his gaze. Dick gives him a small comforting smile. “Come along, Father Todd. We do need you present as well.”

“Be right there, Father.” Jason calls out, throwing Dick a final ‘get out of here, NOW’ look as he leaves the living room. He walks down the cold, almost sterile hall to the door leading to the basement. The basement stairs are solid, carpeted things, and not at all what you’d expect to bring you down to a demon summoning circle. The banality of the suburbs never fails to surprise Jason. He steps out into the basement, and eyes the wide chalked circle in the middle of the hardwood floor. Jason takes a second to wonder why the hell the Drakes would lay a hardwood floor in the basement before he gets distracted by sigil work Tim had incorporated into his circle.

It looks as though Tim has used at least three different systems to construct his circle, and not in a structured manner, they’re all mixed up haphazardly as if he’d picked and chosen the best individual sigils or runes, not really taking into account how they’d work as a whole. The more Jason looks at it, the more he can’t even begin to work out how it had not only performed a successful summoning, but that Tim had survived it. It takes Jason a few times walking around the circle to find Damian’s ‘hidden’ life binding sigils, but once he spots them, it’s no wonder that Damian hadn’t noticed them. It’s a work of accidental genius that in the one spot he’s used all three systems they’d combined to form a temporary binding. 

Jason thanks God that the binding is at least temporary. It looks like the binding will last only as long as Damian’s visit topside. The second he goes back to hell, they’ll be free of each other. It is, so far, the one piece of good news Jason’s had all night. Alfred clears his throat and Jason looks away from the circle to where Alfred’s pointing. It’s a collection of runes, just off the centre of the middle. One of them is smudged, and when Jason focuses on that one rune, he can see it glowing faintly. That’s their chip in the seal.

“Well, the good news is that the two of us will be more than adequate to repair the seal, Mr Drake.” Alfred says, and Tim breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. 

“I found the... hidden trick Damian was talking about earlier.” Jason adds. “Looks like it’ll break the second he goes back to hell. You should consider yourself beyond miraculously lucky, Drake. How the fuck this thing didn’t utterly destroy you when you activated it is. Well, someone up there must really like you, kid. That’s all I can think of.”

“Indeed. Your guardian angel must have been working overtime.” Father Pennyworth says with a smile. “Now, I think it’s for the best if you head upstairs and keep your... guests informed. We’ll repair the seal and then I think we’ll all deserve a nice cup of tea, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah. Yes. Of course. I’ll... go up and get that ready.” Tim stammers, overwhelming relief making him look a little like a puppet with its strings cut. He climbs up the stairs slowly, resting heavily against the wall and Jason can’t hold back the snort that watching him provokes. He gets a slight eyebrow raised at him from Alfred, but well. Jason’s only human after all.

“If you’ve got the Holy Water and Bible, Father, I’ve got the bullets and the will.” Jason says, taking up position by a stretch of circle with minimal writing by it, and taking Nightwing and Robin out of their holsters.

“I have both, and I also have the prayers. When I nod, shoot from both guns, my boy.” Alfred says, giving him a wry look. Jason supposes he deserves that. Alfred will always have decades of experience on him, after all. “In nómine Pátris, et Fílii, et Spirítus Sancti. Amen.” Alfred begins chanting in Latin, bible open to the Book of Psalms. “Exsúrgat Deus et dissipéntur inimíci ejus: et fúgiant qui odérunt eum a fácie ejus. Sicut déficit fumus defíciant; sicut fluit cera a fácie ígnis, sic péreant peccatóres a fácie Dei.” Alfred finishes Psalm Sixty Seven and flicks holy water around the outside of the circle, gradually moving to the centre sigil. After reciting both the Exorcismus and the Prayer against Every Evil in Latin, Alfred nods and Jason aims for the smudged rune with Nightwing and Robin. Both barrels light up as he squeezes the triggers. The floor warps with the divine power of the firearms, rippling as though it was water that had a stone dropped in it. The warping fades, and the circle is gone, chalk dust wafting gently in the air.

“Thank fuck that’s done. At least we can tell the Diocese it’s fixed.” Jason sighs, holstering his guns.

“Quite so. Now we have to deal with the demons upstairs, and we shall have to hope that only the one demon came through that circle.” Alfred pockets his bible and nearly empty vial of holy water. Jason makes a face, but Alfred’s right. He sighs and heads to the stairs, trudging up them. The last thing Jason wants to do is send Dick to hell, but he has no choice about it. It’s his job after all, no matter how useful Dick is, or how much Jason will miss him.

Once he gets back upstairs, Jason finds Drake and lets him know that everything has been fixed, and then he heads back into the living room. It comes as no surprise to him that there’s no sign of Dick and Damian anywhere. 

***

Jason lets Alfred report in to the Diocese when they get back to St Sebastian’s. Alfred had insisted that Jason sleep, and Jason for once, hadn’t felt like fighting about his lack of regular sleep. With the help of another few glasses of whiskey, Jason sleeps most of the day away. It’s well after sunset when he finally drags himself from his bed to shower and shave, ignoring his red eyes and sallow skin, and then heads downstairs for some food.

He’s staring out of the kitchen window, leaning against the sink and drinking whiskey straight from the bottle when he sees the familiar glow of Dick’s eyes from the lychgate. Jason drops the nearly empty bottle down onto the countertop and debates not going out there for once. He stares at the cracking formica top, yanking on the strip of white hair above his eye, and wonders if today’s the day he finally decides to let Dick go. His guns are upstairs in his room and he doesn’t feel like making the effort to get them. Going outside without them would be possibly the stupidest thing he’s done in years. And yet his hand is wrapping around the door handle and he’s opening the door and stepping outside into the night in his bare feet.

Jason keeps his eyes firmly on the path, head down to help. He can feel the chill through his sweatpants and old, thin t-shirt, but he keeps going anyway. Jason only wants to see Dick’s face again. Just one more time, he tells himself. As if he doesn’t tell himself that every time he sees Dick. It’s his one greatest weakness, besides the drinking and throwing himself headlong into danger on a weekly basis. He reaches the gate and forces himself to leave some distance by resting his hands on the top bar of the gate and keeping his arms straight in front of him. When he finally looks up, Dick is standing there with a sad smile on his face and something old and hurting cracks deep in his chest.

“You look terrible.” Dick says softly. “Maybe it’s time to consider cutting back on the alcohol, Father.” Dick lifts a hand, beginning to reach out before he thinks better of it and drops his arm to hug his middle instead.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that whiskey is the water of life? It’s the only thing giving me life right now, for sure.” Jason bites out. Dick winces and Jason has a split second of feeling victorious before the hollowness returns. “Why are you here Dick? You should be hiding for your life right now.”

“I wanted to see you. I wanted to explain the situation to you properly, not like earlier.” Dick leans on the gate, and Jason wonders if it hurts him at all to be brushing up against the barrier like that.

“If you’re going to lie, don’t bother.” Jason twists to lean against the side of the gate, keeping his eyes on Dick’s face, and the glowing of those unholy blue eyes.

“I... no. This time, I promise, is the full truth. If you want to hear it.” Dick looks up at him and Jason wants to grab his face and ...he’s not actually sure. Kiss him? Smack him for leaving? Give in and let Dick corrupt him? Shoot him? Jason’s thoughts are all mixed up.

“Oh why not? For the novelty if nothing else.” Jason scoffs, digging his nails into his bare forearms. He’s feeling raw, like all the nerves in his body are alight, and he’s taking it out on Dick for no good reason at all. Maybe it _is_ time to cut back on the booze.

“When I came to in Hell I went kind of insane.” Dick starts off slowly. “Your screams rattled around in my head so much that they drowned out my own. And when I transformed into a demon I was... I caused a lot of damage. You weren’t in Hell, so I thought you were in Heaven, and I’d never see you again. So I took it out on pretty much everyone around me. So of course that attracted the attention of some powerful demons. Some of them even fought over me, but I ended up with Damian’s parents. They gave me somewhere safe to be and people to care about, and eventually I regained some control and some of myself back. I owe them.” Dick stands up and pulls his shoulders back in pride? Defiance? Jason’s not sure.

“And that’s why you’re protecting their son? That sounds pretty straightforward, baby. Nothing you couldn’t have told me before.” Jason says, shifting his feet against the cold ground.

“It’s how I came back topside. They, Damian’s parents, that is, they showed me an old way that doesn’t require a summons or breaking a seal.” Dick says, swallowing quickly and looking away from Jason. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, you’ll send me back to Hell. But. It’s _you _, Jase. I have to.”__

__“I should have sent you back to Hell that very first night you came back, Dickie. You might as well tell me because I’m not gonna send you back now. I can’t. I’m too fucking weak to send you away.”_ _

__“It’s a binding spell. Usually it requires explicit consent from a human that’s topside. But in certain situations, when the human wants it enough... well, you don’t need to ask.” Dick looks back as Jason and Jason feels the full weight of that gaze on him and couldn’t look away if he wanted to. “You wanted me back enough that I could use that want to anchor myself to you. I dragged my way up out of Hell because I was tethered to you and how much you needed me back. As long as you’re alive, I can come and go between here and there as I want.” Jason exhales slowly and as if in sync, Dick does the same._ _

__“Does it sound crazy if I say I think I knew that?” Jason rasps, voice nearly giving out as he leans forward. “Because I knew that without knowing that. You always come to visit whenever I need to see you the most. Like you knew I needed you. Because you did, didn’t you? Whenever I needed something to remind me why I keep going, there you were.”_ _

__“I knew, yeah. I could feel a pull towards you. So I’d come.” Dick steps closer to the gate, and Jason does the same. They’re so close that Jason can see the little flecks of silver in Dick’s eyes under the blue glow. Dick brings his hand up and brushes his fingers through Jason’s single lock of white hair, right where the scar from the glass is. Jason tilts his head into the touch, feeling a sense of contentment and relaxation that part of him knows he shouldn’t give in to. Dick leans further forward, resting his forehead on Jason’s. He’s not sure if he’s imagining it, but Jason would swear he can feel the tips of Dick’s wings catching on his hair._ _

__“I don’t know how much longer I can do this, baby.” Jason whispers, and his voice cracks on Dick’s name, its usual hoarseness made a hundred times worse by the exhaustion Jason feels. Dick pulls back enough to press their lips together and Jason tastes ozone and smoke, feeling the unholy heat of Dick’s breath against his cheek. Jason kisses back, desperation fuelling his passion, the only time he ever feels right is when he’s with Dick, like this. Damn his vows, he can’t keep them._ _

__“Just a little longer, Jay. You can do it. I believe in you.” Dick whispers back, wrapping his wings tighter around the two of them. He hums a familiar song as Jason rests his arms around Dick’s waist. “If we're gonna die, bury us alive. If you're searching for us you'll find us side by side. That's my, that's my man. This world is gonna burn, burn burn burn. As long as we're going down, baby, you should stick around. Baby, you should stick around...”_ _


End file.
